Corrupted Rain
by Retro Soul
Summary: The best time for a murder is in the rain. For Sodapop and Ponyboy Curtis, a vicious robbery of a life is only the beginning. But how far will they go to avenge their brother's stolen life?
1. Prologue

_**The best time for a murder is in the rain. For Sodapop and Ponyboy Curtis, a vicious robbery of a life is only the beginning. But how far will they go to avenge their brother's stolen life?**_

The rain that pounded on the roof, the thunder that roared in our ears, the wind that wiped at the windows. It was all eerie. The fact that the power was out, did not help the situation. Myself and my brother, Ponyboy, sat huddled together with a flickering candle.

"Man, I really wished Darry was home." he murmured, shivering from the damp air. Darry, our older brother, hadn't been home all night. Coming up with a solution, I told Ponyboy he must've stayed at a friend's house for the night on account of the rain. "Hey, Soda," Ponyboy called out carelessly as he let himself collapse onto the sofa.

"Hm?"

"You know what the best thing to do in the rain is?" he toyed with me, his eyes dancing.

"What?" I asked, a smug grin creeping onto my face. I knelt down on the floor beside him on the couch, looking at his green-grey eyes.

"Murder." he laughed morbidly and kicked his feet around with silliness. I threw my own head back, letting out an evil laugh, getting in on the fun. Me and Ponyboy always got along real well, fooling around like this. Darry would sometimes shake his head but I would soon have him blushing and laughing along with us.

Soon, we were walking around like zombies, roaring and laughing all at the same time. The lightning flashed through the window, lighting up my brother's face and his glowing eyes. Once we had both collapsed back onto the couch, I poked Ponyboy's nose gently and let a soft laugh escape me. A contemplation entered my mind that I didn't often let myself cogitate about. Unsure if I should say it, it came out anyway like most of my words do.

"You have Ma's eyes, Pony." I said softly, resting the back of my hand against his hair line. His amused smile slowly faded, he seemed taken aback by my comment. We had an unspoken agreement that neither of us was to mention our deceased parents. As he searched for the words to respond, a knock banged hard against the front door and acted as a savoir for Ponyboy's response. Figuring Darry had decided to come home, I yelled out.

"It's open, Dar!" Slowly, the door creaked open, rain seeping into the house, the light from the street lamps flooding in. Straining my neck to see, I made out the body of my brother, falling limply to the ground with a thud. "Darry?" I called out, leaving Ponyboy on the couch. My heart dropped to the floor when I had finally reached my brother's body. He lay at my feet, his body splattered in blood and drenched in his own crimson filth. I knew then and there that Darry had been murdered. At the dead of the night, in the rain, a lifeless Darryl Curtis lay at my feet. Maybe the best time for a murder really was in the rain.

**So, I thought I'd try my hand at another thriller, only this time, this one is COMPLETELY original, as my other thriller is inspired by a whole mess of movies I've seen xD The first chapter is kind of short but that's because it's sort of a prologue. So please read and review and tell me how it is and if I should continue, I'd really appreciate it. And for those who read my A Leather Interior, I might be cancelling it. I think I'm just better at this sort of stuff than the typical 'Greaser vs. Soc' thing. Anyway, please tell me your thoughts on this story! **


	2. Plan For Vengeance

**Thanks so much for the support on the first chapter! I'm really excited about writing this story!**

My feet froze, planted to the floor. Slowly, me eyes opened ocean-wide as I stood there, my mouth a gaping hole. "Pony?" my voice came out as a hoarse wail, a cry for comfort. I didn't need to nudge Darry or call out his name. I knew.

Ponyboy's socked feet on the floor came up from behind me and a deep gasp followed. "Tell me that isn't Darry…" his voice edging closer to a wail. I stayed silent, not turning around. "My God, tell me that isn't Darry!" he urged again, this time, his sorrow filled voice collapsed and turned to a cry. Swiftly, I went to grasp his shoulders but he had already fallen to his feet and was gently nudging Darry. His body lightly shook with each nudge but the way his body moved was lifeless and wilted. Cringing, I tore Ponyboy away from Darry.

"He's dead." I told him softly. The words were heavy in my mouth, how could Darry be dead? Strong and hard-working Darry. Tears were streaked down Ponyboy's face.

"He cant be! How can you say that, Soda?" he wailed, slumping down beside Darry's deceased and tarnished body. The words stung my whole being as they came out.

"Because he is."

"We have to call the police!"

"No,"

"What?"

An idea swept over me, I couldn't help but let my mind ponder it. Some might call it insane or morbid. But at the moment that it occurred, it seemed like the best idea I'd ever had. If only I knew the impact it would have.

"Don't you want to get the guy who did this to Darry?" I coaxed Ponyboy, starring into his green-grey eyes again.

"Yeah, but that's what detectives are for." He was right.

But I wanted to see this guy.

And I wanted to kill him.

Subconsciously, I scared myself. I had never had a murderous contemplation before. I had been beaten down on multiple times, but I never had the urge to kill. I never had the motive or a reason behind my quest. But my urge to avenge Darry's stolen life was so strong that I knew I couldn't let someone else find his murderer. I had to find him. Ponyboy could stay here if he wanted, and wallow in self pity. But I was going to find my brother's killer.

"I'm going to find him, Pony. I have to. Its just something I gotta do." I told him, my chest heaving with every breath. He eyed me, his expression unreadable.

"Well then I guess I'll have to come with you." he offered, although he was trying to be sour about it, I could detect triumph in his voice. We were going to capture the murderer. If it was the last thing I did, I was going to find him.

At the starting point, we were faced with two problems. One, we had no idea where to start in finding the murderer. And two, what were we going to do with the body? I felt morbid referring to my once lively brother as just a body. But it had to be done.

Me and Ponyboy hauled Darry's body up, me holding his arms and Ponyboy holding his legs.

"Wait!" I called out, noticing something on Darry's shirt. Setting him down, I went to examine. On his white shirt, were two hand prints - hand prints in blood. They were two small to of been Darry's. Who's ever they were, they had something to do with his murder. I ripped the shirt from his torso and stored it in my back pocket.

"What was that?" Ponyboy asked.

"Evidence." I replied blandly as we commenced to drag Darry's body into our room. Breaking a slight sweat, we managed to prop Darry's body up in the closet and camouflage him with our clothes.

"We have to get out of here." I said quickly, closing the closet door.

"What do you mean?" Ponyboy asked. I hated to scare him like this but precautions had to be made.

"The person who killed Darry might be after us too. I don't know. I mean, how did he know Darry lived here to drop him off at the door? Think about it, Pony."

"So you're saying we have to…_run away?_" he said the word as if it were a crime.

"Damn it, Pony, don't put it like that." I muttered, running a hand through my hair. This was all happening so fast, I had hardly any time to think it over.

"Well what then?"

"We just have to leave."

"Can we stop and say goodbye to Johnny?"

"No, we cant tell anyone. Not a single soul."

"Soda!" he sounded so desperate and hurt by my decisions. I knew how he felt. I wanted to say my goodbyes to all my friends. And Steve. What would he think about me leaving? How would he spend his shifts at the DX without me?

Quickly, I grabbed a satchel and raided the fridge and cupboards, stuffing in all the food and soda cans we had.

"Pony, grab a bag and put all your important stuff in it!" I called out as I proceeded to do the same.

"You cant be serious," he said, seemingly dazed. I didn't want to leave any more than he did. I had grown up in this house, it was the only home I knew. But now, it was unsafe. Our welcoming shelter was known by a thief. A thief of lives.

Slowly, Ponyboy complied, I saw him throw in some shirts and a note pad, and his copy of Gone With The Wind. For myself, I took a couple of shirts and pants, all the money that I could find in the house that I stuffed into my wallet, and I made sure to grab the switchblade that rested on the night stand.

This was no longer about finding Darry's killer and gaining vengeance. This was now about escaping and making it to a safe haven. My chance to avenge Darry's death was slowly slipping away, dwindling from my grasp. Perhaps, it would have to wait. We could only focus on one thing right now - getting away.

"Are you ready?" I asked Ponyboy when we had gathered our important belongings. We both trembled as we shrugged on our jackets and inched towards the blood stained door. Gently, Ponyboy shook his head, no. I felt glad that I was not alone. Softly, I replied to his head shake.

"Neither am I."


	3. Breaking Away

**I apologize if this is somewhat short. I've been somewhat pressed for time lately. I'm in my school play and we've have rehearsals until 5 for the past couple days! The first show is tomorrow, then when have one on Wednesday night and Thursday night! So yeah, very exciting! So once that's all over and done with, I'll have more time to make my chapters longer. Thanks for review by the way. I love you guys!**

We sat, trembling in Darry's truck, the events that just occurred, and that were still occurring, racing through our minds. It all had such a dream like quality. Darry couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. When me and Ponyboy dragged him, or his body rather, into the closet, he just wasn't him. That wasn't Darry. Not the Darry I knew. Of course, now rose the question of _how_ and _who_? But we couldn't deal with that now. We just had to get as far away from our house as possible.

I wont lie, it felt somewhat morbid driving Darry's truck. A dead man's truck. No! He's not dead! The rain whipped at the car with bolts of lightning shooting down at us. Sensing Ponyboy was uneasy, I took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it on his shoulder. Aggressively, he shrugged it off and reached for the door.

"Stop the car."

"What?"

"Stop the car!" I did as he commanded. With one swift motion, he pushed the door open and leapt out into the rain.

"Ponyboy!" I shouted after him. He did not look back, but took off running. Leaving the truck idling in the middle of the road, I took off after him while the rain had beaten down on my back. I tried to care, but I really couldn't.

Finally, catching up with Ponyboy, I tackled him to the ground, him thrashing underneath me. I stayed on top of him, staring down at him, gazing into his eyes. Into my mother's eyes. When he had given up his struggle, we simply laid there in the rain, looking at each other. His warm body felt good against mine in the cold rain. The rain soaked our hair, causing it to fall down into our eyes and our clothes were drenched causing them to plaster onto our bodies. Once the moment had passed, I gently rolled off of my brother and laid beside him in the rain.

"What are we doing, Soda?" I had to think. Everything had played out so fast and so many irrational decisions had been made in just two hour's time. Our lives had changed so drastically. Did I know what was happening any more than he did? I thought about consoling my brother but instead I handed him the honest truth.

"I don't know. Look, lets get back in the truck. Please, Pony. We have to leave. That's what I do know." I told him, slowly getting to my feet. As I extended my hand towards him to help him to his feet as well, he said something that I will never forget. Because never had I heard such hatred come from my own brother.

"I hate him. I hope he rotes in hell."

"Who?"

"The man who killed Darry. When we get this all sorted out, we're going to find him. And kill him. And I'm going to spit on his grave."

We drove for God knows how long in utter silence. I'd like to think it was out of respect for Darry. In a way, it was. Just me, Ponyboy and Eric Burdon's voice coming over the radio, wailing out _House Of The Rising Sun._

Once we had checked into the hotel room, Ponyboy made his way straight to the one bed we were assumed to share. Taking off nothing but his shoes, he buried himself under the covers.

"You coming, Soda?" he asked, peeking his head out and glaring at me. Having unfinished business, I told him I had thing I wanted to do first. I made my way to the bathroom, I splashed water over me and into my stressed face. I had been frowning and furrowing my brow so much since we left the house, my face was starting to ache. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, which was known to be attractive, I let myself relax. The lines in my face evened out and my hair line moved back. Running a hand through my soaked hair, I stripped of my clothing, letting everything fall around my ankles. The earlier events played out in front of my eyes. I saw Darry fall to the floor in front of me, his body splattered with his blood. I remembered the sound of Ponyboy's socked footsteps behind me and the immersed gasp that came from him. I remembered how lifeless Darry felt when we propped him up in our closet and camouflaged him with our clothes. I soon remembered the piece of his shirt that I ripped off his body. I dug it out from my jeans and looked down at the hand prints. Like I had noticed before, the prints seemed too dainty and feminine to be that of a man's. What if Darry's killer wasn't a man after all?

Once I changed into a new set of clothing, I got into bed and huddled close to Ponyboy, again enjoying his body heat. He turned around to face me and his face was baffled, abandoned and aching. "We're the only ones left now. First Ma and Pa, now Darry." his words were a pained, yet low, sob. Looking out into the darkness of the room, I pondered his statement. It was true. However, something suddenly occurred to me. When Ma and Pa where struck by that train in their car, the doctors told us Pa died first and Ma soon followed. Pa was older than Ma by four months. The oldest died first, death finishing with the youngest. If our family was to have some sort of plague, was I next?


	4. Visiting The Dead

**Sorry again, this chapter may be short as well. But here's the thing, (my musical went great and I have more time, so that's not the issue anymore) I think this story is good with short chapters. While my other thriller that I have is better with longer chapters. I might make this story's chapters a certain length because I think it gives it a certain quality when it's shorter. I don't know, possibly more dramatic? What do you guys think?**

When I awoke, I reached over to nudge Ponyboy awake but I was met with nothing but an emptiness beside me and an outline imprinted on the mattress where his body would've been. Slightly alarmed, I rose from the bed with my hair kicking out in all different directions and a stale taste lingering in my mouth.

"Pony?" I called out, stumbling into the next room. "Pony?" I got a whiff of my own morning breath, causing me to cringe from it's smell. "Pony? C'mon, where are you?" I called again, getting irritated. The thought of something happening to him suddenly entered my mind, causing me to go into a slight frenzy. I swung the bathroom door open to find him sitting in a clump on the tiled floor. Confused, I took angry steps towards him. "Pony, why the hell didn't you answer me? I thought something had happened to you!" I said gruffly as I grabbed him by the shoulders to face me. But his face was tear stained and there were silent sobs softly escaping his lips. "What's wrong?"

"I saw him, Soda. He was right here. He talked to me, he…he was here, Soda."

"Who was?"

"Darry!" Ponyboy cried out, pointing a trembling finger in the direction of a pool of blood that laid on the floor. I sprang up to my feet, letting go of Ponyboy's shoulders and staggering backwards. Not only was there blood on the floor but it was smeared on the wall, across the shower curtain and four smudged hand prints were stamped on the mirror in the same crimson filth. I had to be seeing things. Feeling myself getting noxious, I took an immersed swallow.

"P-Pony, how did all that blood get there?" I asked, my voice weak.

"Darry was here. I told you that."

"Darry's dead, Ponyboy." I told him flat out, my words stinging my own tongue.

"Well then how could he of just been here?"

"C'mon, Pony. You're just in shock, Darry wasn't here." I coaxed him, offering him a hand to help him up.

"You don't believe me, do you? I'm not lying, I swear! He was here!" he shouted out, tears beginning to well over in his eyes again. Trying to ignore the blood splattered room, I hauled Ponyboy out of the bathroom despite his sobs and declares that Darry really had visited him. I told myself I would ponder the situation later as I dressed myself and a withdrawn Ponyboy, grabbing our simple duffle bags that we brought with us, and retreating the hotel room. The maid would sure get a shock when she went to clean our bathroom.

Back into the truck again, Ponyboy sat beside me, subdued and stared seemingly mindlessly out the window. I made sure his door was locked this time so he wouldn't make a run for it. As I drove, I let my mind ponder his cries that Darry had been there in the bathroom. He _had_ to be hallucinating. Darry was dead, I had seen him with my own two eyes and I highly doubted he had come back to life and followed us all the way out in…where were we exactly? I had just driven the night before with no destination and never took note of where we had stopped when we got there. I was dazed, and still was. Yet I was doing it again; driving with no target in mind. But nonetheless, where did all that blood come from? The only explanation Ponyboy would give me was that Darry had visited him. I just shook my head.

My thoughts were interrupted when the sound of a squealing police siren screamed out from behind me. Obediently, I stopped but also wondered why they'd want me. A police officer came around to my window as I lowered it.

"Get get out of the car!" he barked at me.

"Excuse me, sir?" I asked, baffled.

"I said get out of the car! NOW!" he barked again. "And you too!" he added, pointing to Ponyboy. Reluctantly, I got of the car and the instant I did, I was thrown onto the hood of the car with hand cuffs being locked onto my wrists. Panicked, I hollered;

"What're you doing?"

"You're under arrest!"

"For what?"

"The murder of Darryl Curtis."


	5. Mysterious Murder

_The murder of Darryl Curtis_? This was insane! "You're wrong! You have to be wrong!" I wailed, struggling against the force of the officer. I was only able to hold my upper body up for a moment before I was slammed back onto the cold metal of the hood of the truck.

"We don't make mistakes," the officer hissed, cuffing me.

"But he's my brother! Who would kill their own brother?" I cried out, my words muffled as the officer pushed my face down, solid against the car hood.

"Apparently you. You may as well just give it up. We have all the evidence we need," he barked, yanking me up by my arms, marching me over to the squad of flashing police cars, and throwing me into the back of one. Evidence? What evidence?

Oh. My. God.

The body, the vacant house, the cupboards ransacked of food, the blood stains on the door, and the smeared blood on the floor, leading to the closet. It was all in our house.

"What do you have to say for yourself, son?" the police officer growled once he got into the front seat. But I had no plead for innocence, I had no objective. A simple question took it's place.

"Where's my brother?"

"I thought your brother was dead," the officer scoffed, starting the car.

"No, I mean, yes, he is dead. But I didn't kill him. I know it looks that way, but you gotta believe me, sir! What I meant, was the other boy who was with me. Where is he?" I let the words pour out from my lips and fill the car's air.

"He's in another car. Don't worry, you'll both have some explaining to do when we get to the police station."

"But I didn't kill him! I _swear_! I love my brother more than anything. If you'd just listen, I can explain right here and now exactly what happened." The swarm of police cars seemed to fade away until there was just our car and the truck. A sinister-type eminence slowly entered the car and hindered in the air. Seconds turned into minutes and the officer sat at the wheel, seemingly motionless. "Sir?" No reply. "Sir?" I beckoned, once again, my voice ringing through the air. Finally, I mustered up the courage to lean forward to look into his face. But what I was met with, it was beyond morbid.

My body reeled backward in shock, collapsing onto the back bench. Letting a holler escape me, my eyes widened and my breath started to falter. Slowly, I leaned forward again to get a second glance, all the while keeping my safe distance from the man. His throat appeared to of been slit, deep shades of red blood streaked down the front of his neck and clinging onto the white fabric of his dress shirt. His head was propped against the head-rest of the chair, slightly tilted. His mouth was left ajar, crimson filth stained against his teeth and a trickle of blood dribbled down his jaw.

There was no doubt that this man was dead, murdered. But I seemed to be too stunned to even think or to speak. I had been with him the entire time and had seen nothing. There had been no screams of agony, no sounds of blood squirting, no evidence of a murder. And yet this man sat with a slit throat before me.

When I pulled my head up to peer out the window, I noticed blood had been splattered against it. It was then when I felt the need to hurl. Slightly delusional, I yanked my arm around and reached it down, struggling to grab the key that hung of the officer's belt. Once successful, I managed to unlock my cuffs, which left red marks on my wrists, and tossed the cuffs to the floor.

What was I going to do? Ponyboy had been taken down to the police station, he was there all alone. Would he cope all alone? All I knew was, if I went back for him, I'd be thrown into jail and never see the light of day again. But more importantly, I'd never be able to bring the man, or whoever it was that killed Darry, to justice. They surely wouldn't imprison a 14 year old boy. Especially when the case was unclosed. I knew what I had to do.

Trembling, I pulled myself from the car, massaging my aching wrists. Slowly, I entered the truck again, pulling the door shut and setting my hands on the wheel. However, I spotted a note, laying innocent and silent on the dash board. From where I was sitting, I could read it. But why did that hand writing look so familiar? Written in red ink, the note read;

Run.


End file.
